Down a secluded Venice backstreet, Bjoerk is having her picture taken, but she's not happy with the photographer. "Stop taking pictures," she says" with exasperation. "Leave me alone." The photographer is a tourist, and his camera is the telephone he's been pretending to talk into for the past ten minutes while following Bjoerk from canal to canal. "It's for my mother," he says petulantly as Bjoerk shoos him away. "Sorry," she says, returning to our conversation, "it was getting hard to concentrate. Where was I?" Bjoerk was halfway through explaining what she was doing before coming to Venice, where her partner, Matthew Barney, with whom she has a four-year-old daughter, is installing an exhibition at the Biennale. She has just completed the first leg of a tour that will cover the globe, dominate the next year of her life, and probably win her a few more, fans with camera phones and no sense of boundaries.
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